The Grotto

Lyrics

[Verse 1] My bitch stashed the blunt in her lace front Can't cook, don't clean, but that's great cunt Caught your team off guard like a fake punt Play trump and get your bitch robbed and your face punched She put my meat on her cheek as if her face lumped Stay slumped, twenty pre rolled at any given time See for these lines, fifty thousand any given rhyme Give me mines and meet me at the finish line See petty crimes, that's what I used to do Petty bitches who I used to screw Now these models circle me like hula-hoops Who are you, see I don't wanna let the ruger loose Two'll shoot and leave a nigga leaking out his new blue goose My flow is tighter than the noose they tried to hang me with I'm the one these hating niggas angry with, bang the fifth Drain the clip at a bitch nigga with the stainless shit Aim the shit at him and just flame the shit [Hook] I'm still the realest nigga standing under the sun Just me, one hand on my gun When I die I give it all to my son And that's word to the weed in my lungs [Verse 2] Like that bomb shit, what we smoking is atomic That bay area chronic keep me higher than a comet The hood Adonis and I'm only being honest I could con any goddess, get tails quicker than Sonic Just being honest, my thoughts is often demonic They criticizing my logic but praising me for my phonics Sip 'til I vomit the visions of Nostradamus I'm swigging on vodka tonic while swerving on the Taconic Told 'em I got 'em, how the fuck could you doubt me I ain't never fit in, so how the fuck could you out me I'm on the road to the riches, niggas tryna reroute me Bitches giving me scalp, my dick is all where they mouth be They found me and pronounced me as the heir to the mansion I'm here now, fear the expansion Niggas biting my style, they vamping I still play the Hamptons, with a centerfold smoking and lamping [Bridge] This is for my niggas on the come up Pull your pistol out and put your gun up If you try to run up, let it off first, stay one up Hit the smooth dip and light a blunt up [Hook] I'm still the realest nigga standing under the sun Just me, one hand on my gun When I die I give it all to my son And that's word to the weed in my lungs